


A Place We Could Escape To

by rvsirene



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 04:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18731350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvsirene/pseuds/rvsirene
Summary: “It wasn't an often thought, but sometimes Effie imagined what it would be like to hug Haymitch Abernathy.”A kind of Drabble about Hayffie & cuddles.





	A Place We Could Escape To

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a little warning before anyone starts reading. This is kind of drabblely and boring, and I’m not sure it was really ‘post-worthy’ but I decided to post it anyway, so read at your own risk of boredom haha.

It wasn't an often thought, but sometimes Effie imagined what it would be like to hug Haymitch Abernathy.

Particularly after their tributes had died or after an awful sponsor meeting.

 

At first, she had imagined he would be soft. Effie had _certainly_ never seen him work out and given the amount of alcohol he drank, it was a logical conclusion.

 

She had been sorely wrong.

 

Effie should've known better than to associate Haymitch Abernathy with anything _soft._

 

That year, he had thrown up all over himself and then passed out. Effie had felt a little forced to undress him because she couldn't stand thinking about him lying in a bed of sick... It was only then that she discovered that Haymitch Abernathy had strong arms. She had felt them when she had guided them out of his shirt. Effie had found herself having to resist the urge to _squeeze_ them because it felt wrong to squeeze him whilst unconscious, but she almost didn't believe it.

 

He wasn't the fittest person she had ever met but he was clearly naturally strong and it was strangely appealing.

 

Effie had found herself later on, glancing at other men and comparing. None of the men had the same broad shoulders... And Effie felt a strange desperation to feel all encompassed with them.

 

Even more so after their tributes had died right after she had gotten back from an awful sponsor meeting.

 

The year after that year, she had walked in from having to deal with Callidamates Viator to watch their last Male tribute being stabbed to death by a district one tribute. Haymitch had switched the screen off and she had thrown the papers on the table and sighed with unrestrained anger.

 

"Well, that's another year over," Haymitch had chuckled bitterly and then he had taken a big gulp of his drink.

 

Effie had just sat down on the edge of the sofa and stared at the papers on the table.

 

She was beginning to grow tired of _falseness_. Of pretending that sending children to death wasn't affecting her...

 

And so, she found her eyes following the lines of his body and settling on his arms. There was _nothing_ false about Haymitch. His arms around her would be strong and safe. They could hold her so tightly she wouldn't have been able to breathe...

 

"What?" Haymitch barked at her sudden staring, he was glancing down at himself... "I put on the shirt you left out for me, what else is wrong?"

 

Effie shook her head.

It was silly to entertain such thoughts.

She couldn't _ever_ imagine Haymitch trying to comfort somebody.

 

-

 

The year of the 65th Hunger Games, Effie found herself wrong again.

Their remaining tribute had seemingly taken his last breath the moment Finnick Odair got his trident.

 

The weight of it all suddenly felt _too_ heavy on her shoulders. The thought of having to go out after this, and celebrate another Hunger Games... Having to deal with more lectures from her mother about not having a promotion. As if her career was more important than children's lives...

All these feelings were suddenly overwhelming and instead of opening her mouth to excuse herself, Effie ended up sobbing instead.

 

For a moment, Haymitch just stares.

 

And then he's moved into her space and is awkwardly fondling her shoulder.

 

"Don't cry..." He says in an odd tone. "Sweetheart..." He's clearly at a loss at what to do because he is still alternating feeling up her shoulder and patting it. Effie tries to take a breath and get a hold of herself because this was _mortifying_. But the panic of being embarrassed was only adding to her upset...

 

And she _couldn't_ _breathe_.

 

Haymitch pulled her into his arms.

He was still awkwardly patting her back and his arms didn't seem to know where they would go but it was _comforting_. He was completely holding her. And Effie completely fell against him and he didn't even complain, he just kept murmuring random words that she wasn't catching next to her ear and attempting to rub her back.

Her tears started to slow down. It was less sobs and more just crying now. Effie closed her eyes and rested her head in this neck for a moment, trying to catch her breath and just calm down. He smelled of sweat and liquor and it wasn't something Effie expected to like.

 

But she couldn't get her breathing under control, it just kept coming back. Every time she thought she was getting a hold of herself she thought about their tributes, she thought about _Finnick_ _Odair_ and what his expensive sponsor gifts would mean, she thought about having to actually _go_ _outside_ and face the world again. She thought about...

 

As suddenly as she was pulled into his arms, Haymitch had pulled her out of his arms.

He was leaning in, frantically searching her eyes for something but Effie couldn't think clearly at all. She felt dizzy, perhaps she would faint. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing, after all she could pretend she never remembered crying and-

 

Haymitch was kissing her.

It took her a few moments to realise he was kissing her and she was sloppy to respond.

It was an awful kiss.

But it helped clear her mind.

He was still sat at her side and she hadn't tilted her head so he was at an awkward angle... He was probably smudging her lipstick but Effie felt blissfully thoughtless. As if nothing mattered. Perhaps it was the kissing, although it was probably the lack of oxygen because it _really_ was an _awful_ _kiss_.

 

She finally managed to respond properly after a minute and it went from an awkward kiss to a fiery one. He was grasping her face to part her lips but she was already a step ahead. She mirrored his desperate attempt to pull her closer by bundling his shirt in her fist...

He tried pulled away, as if he had been burned. However, Effie refused to be deterred. Her mind had finally stopped racing and she didn't want it to carry on again just yet... She tugged on his shirt and brushed her lips against his again but he just pulled away harder...

 

"We need to stop," he said quickly. "This wasn't- I was just trying to..." He started but didn't finish. He pulled her hand away from his shirt and stood up. "I'm going to go to the bar," he said finally. Effie wanted to stop him but she couldn't find the air to speak. "You need to sort yourself out." He pointed at her before marching towards the elevator.

 

Went the elevator finally stopped whirling she managed to get a hold of herself.

And then she flushed red.

_What_ _on_ _Earth_ _had_ _possessed_ _her_ _to_ _start_ _crying?_   _What_ _possessed_ _her_ _to_ _kiss_ _him_?

Effie was so embarrassed she refused to leave her room. She heard him come back but she didn't dare check on him.

 

Yet despite all of this, she couldn't shake the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

She couldn't stop replaying the moment in her head, the feelings of his arms around hers, the taste of his lips...

 

-

 

They ignore each other the next year.

Their tributes die in the bloodbath and Haymitch simply huffs and walks out of the penthouse.

Effie pours herself a drink and switches the games off. She's tired of the silence between them and she's tired of watching kids die.

 

She must have dozed off because the next thing she remembers is waking with a start.

 

"Stupid, _fucking_..." Haymitch hisses and Effie sits up straight...

 

The small coffee table is at angle, he must have stumbled into it. Haymitch walks past her with _hard_ furious steps and makes his way to the bar.

 

"Do mind your language," Effie chides before she can remember they're not on speaking terms.

 

"Shut the _fuck_ up," he snaps, she can hear him moving bottles.

 

"Haven't you had enough?" She mocks.

 

" _Fuck_ _off_." Effie bristles at being talked to like that. In a moment of half-awake fury she finds herself at the bar, prying the drinks from his hands impatiently.

He doesn't fight back, perhaps he's taken aback by the sudden movement. He only reacts when she turns to take his empty glass. He grips her arm tightly...

 

She's not sure how it happened.

One moment she can feel the heaves of angry breath against her face and the next he's kissing her.

It doesn't stop her from returning it though.

It's messy and more of a battle than a kiss. He's pinning her to the wall and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, trying to anchor him and take control...

Then somehow her hands are on his belt and he's picking her up.

The sex is frantic and rough, she can't even think about _anything_. She can't recount the feelings she had. She is lost in the onslaught of sensations... His strong grip on her thighs, the pants against her ear, the noises leaving her mouth...

 

It's over quickly.

 

Effie's not sure what has just happened when he pulls away.

Her hand presses against the wall to regain her balance and then her brain catches up.

A wave of pure self loathing washes over her. _How_   _had_ _that_ _happened?_

She watches him, carefully guarded as he pulls up his trousers and avoids her eyes... They hadn't even properly pulled up her dress. A glance down confirms it’s creased beyond hope and Effie has a feeling her underwear is ripped because she cannot remember him taking it off...

 

_What_ _in_ _Panem_ _had_ _possessed_ _them?_ They had been like animals...

 

Effie shakes her head and straightens up. He finally meets her eyes and she lifts her chin defiantly.

 

"This never happened," she announces more cheerfully than she feels.

 

"Yah," he answers. She simply nods and escapes to her room.

 

She assumes he's gone to get drunk and she's desperate to sleep off the shame.

 

-

 

It happens again.

 

And again.

 

Effie doesn't know exactly  _why_ she keeps letting it happen.

The sex isn't good at all, it's too quick and frantic and he never waits for her if she doesn't finish. But when he's inside of her, she's blissfully _blank_. There's nothing but the grip of his arms and sloppy kisses against her neck. There's no games or sponsor hunting or drama.

It's just _them_ and whatever wall they've decided is good enough.

 

When he leaves that year, Effie dates somebody her mother sets her up with.

She tries not to compare him to Haymitch but she cannot help it. Haymitch makes her blood _boil_ , it's unhealthy and probably toxic for her but it makes her feel _alive_...

Caius is dull and boring and gentle.

He could put her to sleep with a word sometimes. He talks only about himself and doesn't even try to fake interest when Effie speaks.

Their relationship doesn't last long.

 

-

 

Effie gives up on trying to find other relationships officially when Annie Cresta wins the 70th Hunger Games...

The victors are invited back to the Capitol due to complications and instead of going out to find sponsors for next year, Effie finds herself spending most of it in bed.

 

She can't pinpoint the moment they started seeking each other out. She can't even remember when the sex stopped being sloppy and started being amazing but she's too addicted to give it up now.

 

The thought of giving him up sounds even more ridiculous when Haymitch falls on top of her, panting unevenly against her neck. He's crushing her but Effie doesn't have the energy to ask him to move because she's as exhausted as he is.

 

_This_ is what she can't replace with other men, her mind is beautifully _empty_. There's nothing but his weight on top of hers, his smell, his taste, her bedsheets...

 

"Fuck..." Haymitch mutters into her neck. Effie chuckles, it comes out a little insane sounding because she's high on bliss and deeply satisfied.

 

"I think that's one word for it," she teases breathlessly.

He musters enough energy to roll of her and she immediately rolls with him. She ends up half sprawled on top of him, her head cushioned on his chest. His arms wrap around her frame and she sighs contently. After all these years, Haymitch's hugs are still so grounding and comforting. It's like she can _feel_ his arms holding her together...

She can hear the thumping of his heart against her ear, and it sends a rush of happiness through her.

 

He makes her feel alive and she wonders if he feels the same way.

 

-

 

He doesn't sleep in his own bed after that year.

She comes back to the penthouse to find him either on the couch or in her bed. Either ends up in them having sex. _They_ _cannot_ _help_ _themselves_.

 

Effie isn't sure she's ever done it so many times with one person without getting bored.

 

Sex with Haymitch is never boring. It's not outlandish. There's no toys or attempts to seduce the other bar lingerie. They fall into bed together as if it's _natural_. He doesn't try to discuss their sex life with her, he doesn't branch out to try kinky things just to keep it interesting. He's just himself, and he likes her for herself as well. It's the most peculiar yet _amazing_ thing Effie's ever experienced.

 

It shouldn't be so addicting either.

Effie finds herself unable to protest against him. She's not even sure she _wants_ _to_ protest. She finds herself thinking about him all the time... How long it'll be until she's back at the penthouse, _whether_ _she_ _could_ _squeeze_ _in_ _a_ _round_ _between_ _schedules_...

She thinks about _everything_ and _anything_ including him. She feels _infatuated_. A small part of her knows that deep down, this will be the end of her. Effie _knows_ it'll end in heartbreak. It couldn't possibly end any other way.

 

But still, when he rolls over and pins her to the mattress. With wandering hands and intoxicating kisses. She can't help but bask in the presence  with him.

It's their last morning together. Later, he will get a train and Effie will throw herself into other things to distract herself. She will wait those painful months because _nothing_ _else_ can compare to the feeling of his skin on hers...

Her hands find the hair on his chest when he leans in to kiss her lips... Moving across to his strong shoulders when he moves down to kiss her chest... Haymitch is _completely_ _natural_. There's nothing in the Capitol that is so openly _unrefined_. It's full of fakes and pretences.

 

Sometimes she thinks she can see how he feels about her through his eyes...

She knows it's not to the same strength of course, Haymitch swore he could never love again. But he cared. She _knew_ he did.

She knew by the way he'd get jealous if she flirted with other men. By the way he shielded her from his friends worst taunts. She knew by the way he accepted her, with no wig or make up. By the way he would switch angle if she looked uncomfortable for even just a moment...

She knew by the way he would look at her. When he was sliding in and out of her, his hot breath on her neck. His focus solely on her. His eyes would be dark with lust but there was something else there. Something she has come to label as _care_.

 

They stay in bed until he has to leave at noon. She forces him in the shower and he leaves for his room afterwards.

There's no goodbye, no see you next year. She packs up her own stuff and when she comes out he's gone.

 

-

 

It settles down the year after that.

They can finally stop jumping on each other every moment they're alone. It should be worrying, if it were anyone else Effie would be worried they had lost interest in her. But it's _not._

Effie finds herself loving the little moments with him. Being held by him in the bath... The sight of him reading on her bed when she comes in from a party or has gotten out of the shower...

It gives Effie a warm bloom in her chest. And even the hint of dread in the back of her mind can't lull her out of this feeling.

 

-

 

The next year she finally comes to the conclusion that she's in love.

It's not a hard one to reach.

She _loves_ how he holds her at night, the way he seems to perfectly mould himself to her body. She loves how he looks at her, when they're in bed and he's laughing, or smiling at something she's talking about. When he just seems genuinely happy, tangled in her sheets and legs.

She loves when she can't tell where he begins and she ends. It's uncomfortable sometimes, her arm will go numb but the thought of untangling herself... The thought of leaving his arms is too awful to bother moving...

Effie knows, that whatever is happening between them is casual. But she cannot fathom letting him go, ending whatever they have...

She feels half insane when he leaves that year.

She misses him so badly that she tries to date again.

Effie tries to find men to replace him but she can't even sit through a first date without being bored. She had hoped she missed the sex, or the companionship... But it was becoming increasingly clear that she was missing _him_.

 

-

 

She looks forward to the 74th games, she's desperate to see him again.

He must have been too because the way he drunkenly hugged her in front of everybody had her _fuming_.

And then, of course they get a volunteer and Effie is thankfully distracted.

 

Her nerves only begin to settle at supper, when she's trying to make conversation with their new tributes. Haymitch hasn't been seen since the reaping. And a part of her is glad because she could have _murdered_ him.

_Of course,_ then there’s familiar footsteps thudding their way to the dinner car...

Effie cannot even finish thinking ' _speak_ _of_ _the_ _devil_ ' before Haymitch appears through the door.

 

"Did I miss supper?" He slurs. And then proceeds to throw up all over the carpet...

The children laugh.

Effie counts to three and then flees to her room.

 

She distracts herself by running a bath. And by the time she's finished, he's still not made his way to see her.

Effie lets out a disappointed sigh. She might have been mad at him, but she _had_ missed him.

The longing becomes even worse when she slips between the covers and is faced with a whole bed to herself. She had been convinced that she would be sharing it with Haymitch, preferably naked. She had been _convinced_ that she would get to fall asleep in his arms, in his comforting embrace. Effie felt like she needed it more than ever right now.

 

As if answering her thoughts once again, her door swung open.

And then shut clumsily.

 

"Are you awake?" Haymitch whispered. _He_ _must_ _have_ _sobered_ _up_ _a_ _little_ _bit_ , she thought.

 

"Yes," Effie replied, keeping her tone neutral. She didn't turn around to face him. Not even when she felt the mattress dipping behind her.

 

She waited for him to touch her but he didn't.

 

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, and he sounded _sad_.

 

Effie turned over to face him. She could just about glimpse at his features in the darkness...

 

"You don't remember?" She deadpanned bitterly. He still smelled of alcohol and she debated making him shower. But she was too tired to bother getting back up.

 

"What did I do?" He sighed, shuffling a little into the covers. He lifted his hands hesitantly and then held it out for her to move into.

 

"You hugged me," Effie murmured, moving a little into his embrace. She _was_ mad at him, but she had missed him too much to resist his embrace. "In front of everybody."

 

"I'm sorry," he said. She didn't know whether he meant it or not. He didn't sound sorry and she had a feeling he was just saying it to make her feel better. She let it slide though, there were more pressing matters.

 

"We have a volunteer."

 

"Don't get your hopes up, princess," he warned.

 

Effie didn't answer. She let herself cuddle into him like she had wanted to all these months. Burying her face in his neck and letting him wrap his arms around her.

 

 

After they had won, things changed between her and Haymitch.

He would go from ignoring her completely to pushing her into rooms just to hold her. He would kiss her without the guise of wanting sex. It was almost as if he just wanted to make sure she was _there_.

He was blowing hot and cold and Effie couldn't figure out why.

 

The worst by _far_ was how he held her at night. No matter his feelings that day, he'd always come to her bed. He would hug her so tightly. Sometimes he would murmur incomprehensible things into her hair. 

It was so reminiscent of the first time he had hugged her that sometimes Effie felt as if this would be the _last_ _time_. Of course, he always came back. However the way he hugged her was as if she was going to _disappear_...

 

-

 

This continues throughout the Victory Tour.

He's planning something and Effie cannot figure out what it is.

She walks in on hushed conversations, she watches people get killed in the audience...

And Effie is _terrified_.

 

Whatever Haymitch has planned is _dangerous_. She can feel in the air. She can feel it when he talks to her.

Haymitch has never been good at lying to her and she pretends it doesn't kill her to be left in the dark.

And with all these secret meetings and lying, Effie finds herself rather _alone_.

 

She misses the last Victory Tour they were together on.

When they had spent the majority of it in bed. It had felt carefree and comforting. Effie imagines what it could've been like. If they could've actually pursued a relationship. If they had moved in together... He would've driven her mad, but _would_ _they_ _have_ _been_ _in_ _the_ _same_ _boat_ _as_ _now?_

 

In Effie's experience, men keeping secrets usually led to heartbreak.

She wasn't sure she could survive losing Haymitch. But keeping him, knowing he's holding something back from her... She wasn't sure she could handle that either. Effie wasn't sure what he was keeping secret.

He couldn't be having an affair... There were only so many people on the train. She supposed he could have somebody back in Twelve but they had never agreed to be exclusive. She had assumed he didn't have anybody else but she had no right to be upset if he did. Just because she hadn't slept with anybody else in years doesn't mean she should've expected the same from him. 

But it didn't make sense. Haymitch was certainly not the cheating type. He would've just told her, _right?_ And if this was the case, she didn't understand what Cinna and Portia would have to do with it if he was cheating... Portia was her _friend_ and she trusted her enough to tell her if something was happening. It didn't make sense at all.

 

The elephant in the room was beginning to wear her down. Between the children and Haymitch, Effie felt truly alone and sad.

 

When she said goodbye to them that year, she vowed that she would speak to Haymitch at the reaping next year.

 

-

 

Except she couldn't have predicted the Quell theme.

And, as she paced backstage at the reaping, she couldn't bring herself to breach the subject to him.

The thought of him going back into the arena. The thought of there actually being a _last_ _time_ being held by him... It was _too_ _much_. Effie decided it wasn't worth ruining what little time could be left between them.

 

When she pulls Haymitch's name from the bowl, she cannot stop her voice from wavering.

Effie feels utterly destroyed at the thought. At the _fact_. She _condemned_ him. There's no shifting the blame, _she_ would be the reason he would _die_.

 

For the short moment before Peeta volunteers, Effie feels like her world is crashing down around her. But then the boy steps forward and she finds herself ashamed at the small relief that washes over her.

 

 

Haymitch slips into her room that night and she can't stop herself from crying - it was inevitable, she thinks. He holds her and kisses her, his eyes closed as if this were painful for him too. She's finally managing to grasp back some control when he whispers the words. 

 

"You need to sort yourself out." _Did_ _he_ _do_ _it_ _on_ _purpose?_  Effie isn't sure. But she suddenly struck by the massive change in Haymitch. The words from before echo in her head. He had been so angry and _guarded_ before. But the way he had said them just a moment ago... It was tired and worried. Almost begging, Whatever was going on, he needed her to sort herself out. He needed her to be  _strong._

 

She looked up from his lap. Her gaze studied his face before she leaned forward to kiss him.

It was a promise.

She kissed him slowly and softly, silently promising she would do all she could for him... Because she _would._

He didn't try to heat the kiss up but she did. She was desperate to _feel_ him, to hold him properly. Skin on skin, lips on lips...

 

Effie had sworn that before, he had cared about her. But she wasn't so sure anymore.

The sex before had felt more meaningful then what they had been doing against a wall. But the way they had sex _now_...

It was completely different. She hesitated over what to call it because it felt like _making_ _love_. More often then not, she found it was more about being together than blowing some steam. She found him watching her, his eyes weren't full of lust but pure care. Perhaps not _love_ but the closest Effie ever thought she would get.

 

She didn't realise he was leaving until after the last time.

He always held her in his arms afterwards. He'd pepper her face with kisses sometimes or run his hand up her arm... He'd soothe and relax and simply _bask_ in the afterglow with her.

 

However, this time he got dressed.

 

"I have a meeting," he said. He leaned down to peck her lips. She leaned her forehead against his for a moment, letting him know she wasn’t buying it. "Get dressed too." He said quietly.

He pecked her lips again but Effie wasn't having it. The small pit of dread that had been slowly increasing all these years was rearing it's head. Whatever was happening, she didn't want to regret a single thing.

 

She captured his lips in a proper kiss. Feelinf breathless when he pulled away.

 

Effie had to bite her tongue not to say something stupid. The three words were _right_ _there_... _I_ _love_ _you_.

She wanted to say them _so_ badly. She wanted to pull him back into bed and repeat it until she was delirious. She wanted to kiss it into his skin and whisper them against his lips. She wanted...

 

"Stay safe," she whispered with closed eyes instead. He cupped her face, prompting her to open her eyes. And looking into his grey eyes, she found her own welling up with tears she wasn't ready to shed. He nodded.

 

“Stay alive.” Haymitch gave her a short kiss and left.

He didn't look back.

 

 

She had barely gotten dressed when the peacekeepers came to the penthouse.

 

"Miss Trinket?" One of them asked. She looked them up and down and nodded.

 

"How can I help you?" Effie hummed.

 

"You're under arrest."

 

-

 

When Effie wakes up in a cell, she doesn't immediately remember everything that has happened.

 

She's wearing a white dress and it's cold. Effie glances down at her legs, and then she lets herself look at her surroundings.

The cell isn't so bad. There's a toilet and a bed and a sink in the corner. And there's nobody opposite her...

But it's all grey... And Effie has to close her eyes to stop the tears from earlier spilling out of her eyes... The tears when she was looking at _Haymitch's_ grey eyes. When he was kissing her and when he was _there_.

 

She wonders whether they've gotten him too. But she's doesn't remember seeing him.

They had asked her. _Hadn't_ _they?_ They had asked her where he had gone... Effie wasn't sure. She didn't have the energy to piece things together.

 

There was peace to be found in knowing Haymitch was safe.

She kept telling herself that even if it was hard to believe whilst sat in a dark cold cell.

 

They leave her in her cell for a while. There's no clock so she isn't sure how long it's been.

But suddenly she's led out of her cell and into a room with a table and a chair.

 

They ask her questions she doesn't know the answer to.

 

It seems what she’s giving them is not good enough.

She cries out at the first few punches and kicks. Effie has _never_ been hit before, she's not prepared to be beaten for telling the truth either.

 

She comes to the conclusion that the truth doesn't matter around the time that they throw her into a cell with Johanna.

Effie doesn't recognise her at first, her hair is gone. And selfishly, for a moment she slightly prays they don't do the same to her hair...

 

At first, Johanna is cold and standoffish. But when the cold eventually gets too much she shuffles towards Effie. They sit together in the dark. There were no words. Just the comforting and slightly warm presence of the other by their side.

 

Effie thought back to Haymitch.

She longed, at this moment, to be in his arms. Not only would he warm her up, but the smell of him... the strong grip. It would be _safety_. And safety is something Effie thinks she took for granted.

 

 

She doesn't know how long they're in the prisons. But it somehow doesn't feel so bad when she's sharing a cell.

It breaks her heart having to protect the children and _failing_. But at the very least, she can hold them afterwards. She can comfort them just like she wants to be comforted. Even Johanna allows her this at times.

Peeta is much more receptive to this though.

That is until he tried to strangle her. It didn't last long, Johanna pulled him off of her and Peeta seemingly snapped back into a shell of himself...

But for a brief moment Effie wondered what it would've been like if he hadn't had stopped. Death didn't seem so scary anymore. A part of her longed for it. An escape from whatever hell she had entered. Only the knowledge of the children and Haymitch kept her going. She vowed to herself that no matter _what_ , she would feel his arms around her again. Even it it was a goodbye, she wasn't willing to give up until then.

 

When the children are rescued, Effie feels the loneliness that had been looming in the background since the Victory Tour crash over her.

The door to the cell is open but she doesn't bother moving out of the corner. There's no point.

If Haymitch was there, he would have saved her. _Right?_  She isn't so sure anymore. A part of her thinks the guards were right. That he really didn't care for her. Why else would he had left her here?

 

She couldn't remember that look in his eyes. The glimmer she had called _care_.

Effie tried  for hours trying to conjure up his face in her memory. To place that feeling in his eyes again just so she knew she hadn't been imagining it. But she couldn't.

 

 

They don't come to see her much anymore.

A guard had come in and locked the door again and Effie had just stared. She felt _nothing_.

There wasn't even a want to leave the cell. If Haymitch wasn't coming to safe her, then she would substitute his arms for these walls. The cell might be dull and dark but outside, Effie didn't know who she _was_. She would have to deal with real world problems. Real people. In her cell, everything was quiet. There was nothing but her and these walls.

 

She's so convinced she'll never see Haymitch again, that when they do save her eventually, she cannot bring herself to believe it.

 

Effie keeps falling in and out of consciousness. Sometimes she thinks she's still there in her cell. That perhaps this is the route to death.

Other times, there's a scruffy blurry face standing over her, she can't see his eyes clearly enough but she can feel them. Effie can see the worry etched into his face. Vaguely, she thinks can see the guilt.

 

-

 

It takes her a while to wake up properly. And when she does, she's alone.

For a moment, Effie feels nothing but _calm_. Her eyes take in the cell, only to realise it's white. And then there's this beeping. And people are rushing in and she's _terrified_.

 

_Maybe_ _they_ _had_ _done_ _something_ _to_ _her_ _like_ _they_ _had_ _to_ _Peeta_...

_Perhaps_ _they_ _had_ _given_ _her_ _life_ _only_ _to_ _take_ _it_ _away_ _again_...

 

"Sweetheart." A voice cuts in from the other noises in the room. As if she knew, her eyes find his immediately.

Haymitch's head is bobbing above the doctors, trying to get through while they try to talk to him...

 

"Haymitch." Her words are croaky and quiet but she thinks she spots the relief in his eyes... Effie tries to reach for him but her limbs feel numb and there's something holding her arm back. A glance down confirms there's some kind of tube attached.

 

He pushes through the doctors and grabs her hand.

 

"Effie," he sighs. His hand reaches up to touch her face lightly and Effie manages to hold back the flinch. She knows he wouldn't hurt her. Her body does too. And before either of them can say much more, she's crying. " _Fuck_." He moves his hand but she weakly stops him. "Are you in pain? _Fuck_ , can't you give her any more pain shit?" The question is directed at the doctors but Effie answers.

 

"No," she shakes her head. The tears won't stop falling but she's happy. _So_ _happy_. Effie squeezes his hand in hers, as tightly as she can and smiles. _This_ _is_ _it_ , _she_   _can_ _die_ _happily_ _now_...

 

"Miss Trinket, if we can just check you out..." The doctor begins.

Effie all his questions despite how bored she is. Because Haymitch is still holding her hand. And every time she describes something that happened, his hand _clenches_. As if he wanted to squeeze whoever did it. As if he _cared_ about her.

 

By the time everyone's out the room, she is exhausted.

Haymitch is still sat next to her. He's looking at her hand in his, stroking her skin slowly, clearly lost in thought.

 

"Are you mad at me?" Effie doesn't realise she's spoken until he looks up with a scoff.

 

"Don't be ridiculous," he replies coldly. "Why would I be mad at you? You should be mad at me."

 

"Because..." She trails off, not sure how to put into words what she thinks. _Because_ _she_ _wasn't_ _as_ _careful_ _as_ _she_ _should've_ _been_. _Because_ _she_ _fell_ _in_ _love_ _with_ _him_...

 

"I'm not mad at you princess," he says softly. "I'm sorry." Haymitch drops his gaze to their hands again. He gives a gentle squeeze before continuing. "I trusted what Plutarch said and I shouldn't, and I get it if you're angry at me but-"

 

"I'm not angry," she promises with more confidence than she feels. "I just... I want you to do something." Haymitch nods. "I want you to hold me." He makes a face at the tubes and things in the way but nods shakily.

 

"Can you move over?" He asks. Effie tries her best to shuffle to the side, to leave him enough space. It's not comfortable and it’s a little painful. But when he finally manages to fit in the bed but when he finally wraps his arms around her, Effie finds it doesn't matter.

 

Haymitch is stuck underneath her so she has to make an active effort to keep her eyes open and keep awake but it's worth it. Tentatively, she tries her best to bury her face in his neck, to smell him. But she's dismayed to find he doesn't smell of alcohol or sweat anymore. Just cheap soap.

He leans his head down for a moment, their eyes make contact even if it's an awkward angle to do so... Before Effie can react, he places a soft kiss on her forehead and holds her tighter.

 

They settle into a comfortable silence for what seems like forever.

 

"It's gonna be alright now," he says eventually. They're just staring into the room.

It's so white that it blinds Effie's eyes a little. She tells herself it's the brightness that's causing her eyes to water...

"We'll get through this together yeah? I got you, you're safe." Effie isn't sure if he's speaking to her or herself, but she leans in and presses a kiss on his pulse. It's just a short peck, but his breath catches anyway. “Effie, I-” he stops and his embrace tightens for a moment.

 

"I know," she promises. And for once she's sure of herself.

Haymitch Abernathy doesn't just care, he _loves_.

 

There’s no doubt of that in her mind when she’s in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> That’s it! Hope you weren’t too bored?  
> I had the start of this written a while ago but I decided to finish it last week because I was in major need of cheering up.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! I could’ve gone on (the original plan was to go up until death lmao). But I felt like it got too long and boring as it was. Also, I did attempt to read this for mistakes, but I also did so with a glass of wine whilst tired I apologise it there’s any mistakes :)  
> Let me know your thoughts!


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